journeys of a restless mind

Home from work early with a sick Hijo.  Once I heard it wasn't serious, I was relieved for the chance to leave work and walk in the bright sunlight for awhile.  The light is already getting that golden edge that it acquires each Fall.   Things used to be simpler.  By deciding that I can no longer settle for a crappy situation, I am forcing myself to take action--action that has seemed impossible up to now.  I'm not so sure it is possible.  My emotions swing wildly between despair and excitement over the thought that I can really make some changes.  I feel like I'm learning the basics all over again.

I have to admit it's getting better

I may not have always made the best decisions in my life (my mother is sitting there nodding her head vigorously right now), but one thing I've become good at is surrounding myself with really smart, supportive, creative people.  They are going to help me get out of the trap.  And I don't even think I'll have to gnaw my leg off to do it.

amanecer

I wake up at five on Saturday to catch the first ferry .  From the stern deck I watch the city recede and the sun come up behind it.  The wind blows my hair.  Mt. Rainier glows orange to the South; a woman points to it and tells her son, "Look! It's the volcano."  In the North, Mt. Baker is just visible, a faint lavender silhouette.  The ferry moves remarkably fast through the rippling pink water.  We are headed toward more mountains.

When I arrive my mother is still asleep.  Hijo greets me and shows me where his other tooth finally came out.  Before the end of the day he will have a black eye and a bee sting.  I make some coffee and sit on the couch with my dad.  He hands me a section of the paper and we sit together reading.  I realize that not even the promise of the stars is better than the sunrise.